


Echoes of the Flame

by Supernatural_freak



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Bottom Dean, Castiel is kind of an ass at first, DON'T BE FOOLED, Dean is not innocent, F/M, Light Bondage, M/M, Male Slash, Original Character(s), Slow Build, Top Castiel, bossy bottom, latin names, magical!cas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-22 13:38:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6081399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Supernatural_freak/pseuds/Supernatural_freak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester's life wasn't the best but it wasn't the worst. That was until the fateful day where it all changed. Now he was trapped inside a large castle without his brother or a friend to be found. Just to add to it, the Prince is giving him all kinds of tingly thoughts even while quickly making his dislike towards Dean known.<br/>But these were all the least of Dean's concerns.<br/>He had to find out what the King wanted from him, and fast.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In the Beginning There Where Flames.

**Author's Note:**

> Forgive my terrible inability to write summaries. Also this is just a teaser chapter to see if I can get any interest. I randomly wrote this but now I need the motivation to continue to write it. So please comment and leave kudo's! Tell me what you think!  
> If I get enough interest hopefully I should have the next chapter out in a week!
> 
> Also more tags will be added as I go.

The sun was hiding behind a stray cloud, the birds were singing softly to each other from the roof tops, little kids yelled in the streets, and the smell of the fresh baked bread wafted out of the bakery window. It was just another day in the city of Aureus.

The castle shed shadows across the ground, a reminder to the people of the power of the Angelus family. The black smith’s hammering rang through the air and the yells of the market people attempting to sell their overpriced wears could be heard from every corner. The cobble stone streets were filled with people of all sorts coming from all across the land to buy the marvelous clothes, jewelry, weapons, and the likes, that could be found in Aureus. Laughing and singing flooded the streets, just barely covering the echoes of the beggars on the street corners, asking for whatever coins one could spare. Just another day in Aureus; for everyone but Dean Winchester.

Blond hair fell across the face that some townspeople called angelic, and freckles scattered across the nose like little kisses on an already sun tanned face. Dean sat on the rooftop of the inn he both worked and lived in. Well, he hadn’t actually started working in it yet, that was just an assumption since he didn’t know how else he would be able to pay for the small room his brother and him shared on the top floor. Normally around this time, he would be in school, learning all about his numbers and letters. It was his last year too since his 17th birthday was soon to be upon him which meant that he would have to decide whether to take on an apprenticeship or join the army. But letters and numbers seemed of little importance to the young man who had just lost the only person who had ever really loved him, besides his little brother that is.

Mary Winchester, had been a force to be reckoned with. Long blond hair framing a gorgeous smile and bright eyes. Laugh lines that had wrinkled her face and many a men old and young sometimes had to stop and stare at her beauty. She was definitely something unique and Dean had her to thank for many of his good looks. Not that looks mattered much to Mary Winchester anymore, as she was now nothing but a pile of ashes buried under more ashes.

Dean rested his chin on his knee, his other leg swinging off the edge of the roof as he precariously sat there staring at the world below him, a world that seemed to not even notice the loss of one of its most wonderful people. His mom had been one of the maids at the Inn Dean now perched upon. She made just enough to give her sons a proper life with enough food in their bellies that they didn’t go to bed with hunger pains, and enough clothes that they were warm during the bitter winters that sometimes found their way into Aureus. Everyone who came to the Inn adored Mary and her sweet smiles, the way she would put people in their place with nothing more than a look, and her soothing voice that could put even the most wound up men at ease.

Yet now all that remained of her was the locket Dean had around his neck and the journal she left with her random scribbles in it. The smoke could still be seen from where Dean sat, winding its way up into the sky till it faded away to nothing among the clouds. Mary had been on the edge of the City visiting the house of an old man who she regularly visited to help care for. Somehow a fire got started and both Mary and the elderly man found themselves trapped inside the burning embers. The building had collapsed before anyone could get there with pails of water.

Dean still wondered just how it could have happened. For some reason a small voice in the back of his head kept nagging at him telling him that this was no accident. But what could he do anyway? Dean was no soldier, no spy. While he could hold his own in a fight there was no way he could even begin to figure out what might have really started that fire.

“Ding, ding, ding, ding... Dong... Dong... Dong...” rang loudly across Aureus as the bell tower informed the occupants of the city that someone of the royal family was making their way down into the town. Dean, pulled out of his thoughts, glanced at the castle in surprise. It had been awhile since anyone from the royal family had actually paid a visit into the city leaving the protective walls of their castle behind them.

The Angelus family had ruled over Aureus for centuries; most people couldn’t even recall what the name of the first king was it was so long ago. The family was huge with too many aunts, uncles, and cousins spread all across the land. Married to other large royal families or married off to make alliances. Currently, King Arcadius’s ruled the land with a firm hand, sometimes too firm. He wasn’t the worst ruler the city had seen by any means, but he was greedy. He wanted as much money as he could get and the city was suffering for it as the King raised taxes to ungodly amounts.

The direct family of the King currently consisted of his wife, Abelia, their four children, the eldest of which was already married off to some prince in a neighboring kingdom. Dean thought her name was Anael or something like that. The next was the prince, currently in line for the throne, his name was Castiel and at the ripe age of 19 he had yet to be found a suitable partner to marry, which tended to be the talk of the town much to Dean’s chagrin (he thought it all to be petty talk). Castiel had only been spotted outside of the castle a few times when he was younger. The Angelus family was very protective of their son. Apparently, he had some secret gift that had skipped generations and had manifested in the young prince. It is said that at one time or another the Angelus family used to have all kinds of different powers. They could control the elements and even heal people. But for some reason the gift died out, being seen only in rare individuals. Apparently Castiel fell under that category and the royal family was adamant about keeping him under lock and key. The remaining siblings were twins, a girl and a boy by the names of Laylah and Nathanael. They could be seen playing just inside the castle gates, chasing the dog or playing tag. At the young age of ten, they were the pride and joy of the city and especially of the king and queen who had thought they could no longer have children. Everyone was a little over protective of the twins, especially their older brother.

Dean sighed and watched with mild curiosity as the gates of the castle opened and out marched an impressive line of soldiers surrounding two figures on horseback. Dean snorted, of course the guards were on foot which honestly was a stupid idea. Dean could tell from his perch all the different ways he could infiltrate the ranks of the guards to get to the royals in the center. The boys interest grew however as he watched the parade of guards make their way towards the very inn he was sitting on. Dean could tell now that it was the King and who he assumed to be the Prince astride the two horses.

The company stops in front of the Inn and the King slides gracefully from his perch. Around him the guards fan out to make a path for the King as he saunters up to the front door. People gather around, mystified as too why the King would be visiting the city Inn, especially with such a large group of soldiers. A guard hurried inside to assess the area and make sure it was safe for the King to approach. Dean leaned a little farther over the edge to watch as Arcadius entered the Inn leaving behind his soldiers and his son waiting on the cobblestone amongst the quickly growing crowd.

Suddenly, Dean’s name rang up through the open window that granted him access to the roof. It startled the young man causing him to lose his already precarious balance and topple head first over the edge of the roof. The slates of the roof slipped through his fingers as he tried to find something to grab onto but it was to no avail. Dean felt the ground rushing towards him and the only thing that ran through his thoughts was who was going to take care of Sammy.

But the ground never came.

Instead Dean found himself floating on what felt like a pocket of air just a couple meters from the ground. The townspeople whispered in awe but the soldiers looked completely unaffected by this quit unusual scene. Dean looked around him to find the Prince glaring at him adamantly, his hand raised towards Dean as if he were reaching out towards the boy. The veins in the Prince neck stood out and his eyes seemed to glow blue as he slowly lowered his hand and allowed the clumsy boy to find his feet firmly on the ground.

The inn keeper and the King came rushing out at the sound of the commotion to find a circle of guards and towns people around a very awkward boy, his blond hair laying across his face as he tried his best to not stand out too much.

“Father, I believe this is the boy you were seeking out.” An ungodly deep voice spoke out of the mouth of the Prince. Dean couldn’t help the slight shiver that ran down his spine at the sound of it either. The Prince sounded like he had just come from having his throat fucked thoroughly... not that Dean would know what that sounded like or anything after all he was just a _boy_.

However, the Princes words quickly caught up with him and he spun around to stare at the King who was looking him up and down like he was a piece of meat. Dean swallowed nervously. What in gods name could the Kind want with him? A peasant, a motherless peasant at that.

“Dean Winchester.” The King said with a grin as he slowly approached the young man who was trying his best to look a lot braver than he was currently feeling. “Oh how I had hoped this day would never come.” The King spoke softly as his gray eyes met Dean’s green ones.

Dean looked around at the town people who were staring at him with wide eyes, at the guards with their metal plates and swords upon their hips, at the Prince still astride his horse... the Prince who had apparently just saved his life, although now Dean was starting to wonder if that was a good thing or not.

“I’m sorry your majesty, but I do not have the slightest idea what you’re talking about” Dean said as he took a knee in front of the King before looking up at him again.

The man just regarded him with a slight head tilt, “You wouldn’t would you? Hmmm” replied the King as he scratched a fake itch under his chin. “Well that won’t be of any concern right now. Up you go” And with a wave of Arcadius’s hand, Dean suddenly found himself in the grip of two strong knights as they lifted him from the ground, dragging Dean’s knees across the pavement in the process. A hiss escaped the young man’s lips as the skin of his knees were cut up but the soldiers ignored it. A bag was then placed over his head and the next thing Dean knew he was being guided roughly down the street, his feet tripping over rough patches of cobblestone, and the whisper of the tons people filling his ear to the point of giving him a headache.

Eventually the murmurs and whispers died away and the ground below Dean’s feet smoothed out. It was then that he knew he was inside the castle walls. He winced as he heard the gates shut behind him feeling as if all of his freedom was just locked behind those gates, left to dwindle away in the crowds of the city people.

The townspeople watched as the young man was dragged inside the castle and the gates shut behind him. They whispered for a few more minutes before once again continuing on their way.

It was just another day after all, in the city of Aureus, for everyone accept Dean Winchester, motherless and now prisoner all in the span of one day. That had to be a record.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean you're a wizard! (Just kidding but you get the idea).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am super sorry this took longer to get out than I wanted it to but school and life are a thing. Also a lack of a muse doesn't help much either. I am going to try to post once a week.
> 
> Please leave comments!

The air was chilled and damp with no sign of life except for the torch in the wall and the steady movement of Dean’s chest. There wasn’t a window to be found to allow light into the dark space that seemed to slowly be closing in on the young man who sat on a chair, waiting. That was all he had been doing for what seemed like hours now, and without the visibility of the sun it was even harder to tell just how much time had passed. 

The room was furnished. Not fully or extravagantly, more like a work space perhaps. Bookcases lined the walls, but Dean could tell that the occupants of the wooden shelves hadn’t been touched in a long time judging by the layer of dust he could see from his throne. To his left sat a wooden desk, intricately carved and by far the most captivating and eye catching object in the room. Burned out candles and empty ink jars adorned the desk top. A desk chair sat leaning almost precariously up against the frame of the desk, perhaps due to a broken leg. There was a table off to Dean’s right that could sit what looked like a group of four people, even though there were only three uncomfortable looking chairs around it. Judging by the ache in Dean’s backside he figured that he was currently perched on the fourth chair. 

With a tired groan, Dean stood up and stretched his aching bones. The King and his guards had dragged Dean all through the castle, upstairs, downstairs, and down long tunnels, until finally depositing Dean in the chair he had just been occupying. They had removed the bag after that and without another word left through a simple oak door, the only door in the room. Dean had been left to sit and wait. They hadn’t even tied him up, yet for some reason trying to leave seemed like a bad idea. For a while he had sat in the chair unmoving, afraid that the tiniest of sounds would have guards coming in with spears raised towards his chest. 

But at this point it seemed like no one was coming to join Dean in the room he was prisoner in. All he wanted to do was eat and see his brother. A piss would be nice too but luckily it wasn’t a dire need yet. The young man still had no idea what the King could possibly want with him. He was a peasant. His family lived off every penny they earned; and while Mary had been popular around the inn, there was no way that the small influence Mary had around the town was able to spread as far as the castle. 

Getting frustrated and antsy, Dean started to pass the small width of the room. The sound of his feet shuffling against the stone was almost welcomed against the deafening silence that had been slowly starting to drive Dean insane. 

Eventually Dean’s feet started to ache from his insistent pacing, and his bladder felt like it was going to rupture with every movement. The air began to be almost suffocating, and the torch light seemed like it was getting dimmer with every passing second. It was just to the point where Dean figured they would leave him here to die when he heard noises coming from the other side of the door. Standing to face it in what he hoped was an intimidating stance, Dean waited as the door swung open slowly to reveal the Prince of all people standing behind it. The piercing blue eyes bore into Dean, making him fidget and feel as if Castiel was looking right through him. 

“Dean Winchester” came out of the Prince’s mouth in a voice that was so much deeper than one would ever expect from a man of Castiel’s stature. Dean felt a shiver run down his spine. “Come with me. The King is waiting for us. But first you must freshen up as you are in no proper state to be in the presence of my father. Even I am having a hard time trying not to be offended by the odor coming off you.” The Prince frowned, his full lips making the look ridiculously cute when it probably shouldn’t have been. 

Castiel pushed the door open wider, the hinges creaking loudly from lack of use causing Dean to flinch. He could see that there were two guards standing in the hallway, facing each other, their hands clasped behind their backs, and swords hanging from their belts. 

“If you would,” Castiel said, gesturing down the long hallway with his hand. 

Dean swallowed and walked very stiffly out the door. “So why does the King have his son running errands for him?” Dean asked casually trying to see what he could get out of the Prince. 

A stoic Prince just stepped around Dean and walked down the hallway at a brisk pace that Dean had a hard time keeping up with due to his aching bladder.

“So not really the talkative type unless you need to be huh?” Dean said continuing his banter. It helped to calm his nerves. “At least let me know if I am about to walk to my death or not?” 

Castiel’s shoulders raised up and then back down with what could only be an overly dramatic sigh. 

“We did not bring you here to kill you Dean Winchester, if we had you would be dead already.” And that was all Dean was able to get out of the man as they made their way up multiple flights of stairs.  

Eventually, they stopped in front of a plain wooden door. Castiel turned to face Dean, his face blank of all emotions. Dean really couldn’t understand how someone could be so emotionless. 

“This is your room for the remainder of your stay here however long that should be. Inside is everything you should require and if not there is a bell pulley inside that you may pull and a servant will attend to you as soon as possible.” Castiel pushed the door open for Dean and waved his hand for Dean to enter. “You have thirty minutes to freshen up before we shall meet with my father. I will come back to retrieve at that time.” 

The Prince gave dean a nod before spinning on his heel and making his way back down the hallway, one of the guards in tow. The other one took position outside of Dean’s door, back straight up against the wall and face blank. Dean shook his head and stepped through the door of what was apparently now his room. 

Kicking the door shut behind him, the first thing Dean did was rush to find the chamber pot in the small room connecting to his. Once he had relieved himself of his aching bladder, Dean allowed himself a moment to take in his surroundings. The young man had never had a room of his own before in all his life. Everything he had ever had was always shared among Sam and himself. 

Standing in the center of the room, Dean spun in a slow circle taking in the walls that surrounded him. There was a canopy bed, larger than any bed Dean had ever slept on before. The sheets were stark white with a gold trimming on the edges, the material softer than anything Dean had ever laid hands on. There were two grand windows on one wall, both containing a small balcony. The windows were framed by golden curtains that were dancing in the breeze coming through the openings in the window. Dean watched mesmerized by the shimmering of the cloth. 

Opposite of the bed was a desk, where fresh candles sat in their holders waiting to be light. The smell of recently poured ink swept around Dean with the help of the wind and the presence of open jars of ink sitting on the desk top. A brand new quill sat next to blank parchment paper. The feather of the quill was long and elegant, layered with a multitude of colors ranging from gold to light brown to almost black. 

On the floor lay a large rug, designed with a simple yet elegant pattern of red and gold shapes. Dean knelt and ran his hand along the fine fibers of the rub, once again amazed at the fact that something could be so soft. 

Next to the desk sat a large wardrobe. It was a dark brown color with complex carvings on the doors, and polished golden handles. There were also two drawers at the bottom of the wardrobe that were sitting slightly open like someone hadn’t had quite enough time to close them all the way. Dean stepped up the wardrobe and swung the doors open on perfectly oiled hinges. Inside was a mirror hanging from one door and an assortment of clothes of all different colors and styles hanging neatly in a row. Dean could easily tell the clothes were meant for him, although he couldn’t begin the fathom where they could have possible gotten his sizings from.  Dean sighed, the unsettling feeling in his stomach growing with every second he was in this castle. 

Flipping briefly through the clothes, Dean decided with a simple outfit consisting of a white blouse covered by a light brown tunic, edged with a dark leather color, and a leather belt that matched. Dark colored stockings went with the outfit. Dean felt uncomfortable with the fine quality of the clothes as well as the fact that he had never actually worn an outfit like this before.

Gathering the clothes, Dean stepped into the small washroom and now that he wasn’t focusing on peeing, he noticed that there was a basin of now lukewarm water waiting for him to freshen up with. He sighed and stripped out of his musty clothes and kicked them off to the side. A cloth sat next to the basin which Dean dampened and used to wipe himself down, getting all the parts of himself that got sweaty especially when nervous. He splashed some water in his face as well as ran his wet hands through his hair to try and at least make it semi-decent looking. 

Once he felt slightly human again, Dean slid the stockings on first. He couldn’t lie that the way the cloth fit him, cupping his ass and groin perfectly, made Dean slightly aroused. Not allowing himself any time to dwell on those kinds of thoughts however, Dean quickly slipped the white blouse on and then the tunic, tightening the belt so the clothes framed his figure perfectly. Dean couldn’t help but smirk a little as he checked himself out in the mirror hanging from the wardrobe. He knew that he looked good, his body was one thing he had never been exactly shy about. 

Squelching his toes into the soft rug below him, Dean glanced down at his bare feet and then into one of the still semi open drawers to see a number of pairs of shoes. Some of them looked so uncomfortable that Dean’s feet hurt just from looking at them. There was however a pair of sturdy looking knee length boots, the leather soft and palpable under Dean’s fingers. Dean slipped the boots on and grinned at just how well they fit. He couldn’t wait until he broke them in enough that the leather actually fit the shape of his leg like a glove. 

There wasn’t much else to do but sit and wait for Castiel to return to fetch him. Dean walked over to the bedside table where he noticed a small pitcher of water and a cup sitting. Pouring himself a glass of the ice cold water, Dean sat precariously on the edge of the bed almost as if he was afraid of spoiling the pristine white sheets or the neatness of the bed that seemed to have been so carefully made. 

Dean tried not to let his mind wander towards what was about to happen. It would only make him more nervous than he already was. Honestly, he was pretty sure he would have thrown up by now if there had actually been anything in his stomach for him to throw up. 

A few minutes later a light knock echoed off the wooden door of Dean’s chambers. Dean scrambled up to get it, almost spilling his half-drunk water in the process. Setting the cup down first, Dean pulled his clothes straight and then walked over to the door, swinging it open slowly. On the other side stood the Prince with just the one guard this time. Castiel looked no different than before except that Dean could swear he caught a glimpse of what almost look like want in the Prince’s eyes as he gave Dean a once over. But the look was gone before Dean could even give it a second thought. So maybe the Prince really wasn’t as stoic as he seemed. Dean was going to use this to his advantage any way he could. 

“So, am I presentable enough for your majestyyyy” Dean said with an exaggerated bow. 

Castiel huffed and suppressed an eye roll. “It will do just fine I suppose,” he said before turning and walking down the hall the opposite direction than which they had come earlier. Dean did roll his eyes at the Prince’s back and earned a small grin from the guard still standing next to him. Dean counted that as a win. 

Hurrying to catch up to Castiel, Dean quickly fell into line beside the Prince and found it easier to keep pace with him this time around. It wasn’t long before the came up to a very large set of oak doors. A trumpet rang out from the other side and the doors swung open before Dean could even come to a halt in front of him. He sighed quietly and realized it was going to take a long time to get used to this whole “being a guest in the castle” thing. 

The King sat upon a large throne at the end of the hall the small group had just walked into. The throne was nothing too spectacular which honestly surprised Dean. It was a simple wooden chair, with red cushions that didn’t look particularly comfortable. The top of the chair was the most detailed part of the whole throne with pointed ends and some fancy ass paint job. 

Castiel stopped not far from the King and went down to one knee bowing. 

“Father,” he stated simply before rising and moving to stand next to his father. 

Dean just stood there forgetting all possible reasonable thought as he stared dumbly at the King and his son. Castiel raised an eyebrow at Dean and sent him a glare, a knight next to him cleared his throat, and Dean suddenly realized he was supposed to kneel. Stumbling over himself slightly, Dean went down on one knee with a small wince as he hit the hard floor. He bowed his head and waited to be told to stand. 

The King chuckled. “You are just like your mother. She was quite headstrong herself. Never could get her to bow properly. I suppose it sort of became a joke between us.” The King’s eyes seemed to glass over as his mind wandered to a passed events. “But anyway, stand my boy. No need to have you down on the floor like some common servant.” 

Dean quickly scrambled up again and stood there shifting nervously back and forth on his feet. He didn’t have a clue what he was supposed to say, or do. Glancing around for a second, Dean noted a number of people sitting on the edges of the hall or throne room, whatever it was, watching Dean with both curious looks as well as some untrustworthy ones. He figured they were just people belonging to the King’s court. 

“So, Dean Winchester. Do you have any clue as to why I have brought you here today?” The Kind asked, looking down at Dean skeptically from his perch. 

Dean swallowed the rock in his throat. 

“No... Your majesty,” he said, all the playfulness from earlier gone from his voice gone.

The King looked almost saddened by the news. 

“I am sorry for your loss by the way. Losing one’s mother at a young age is never an easy thing. Just ask my son here.” 

Castiel’s face seemed to only get tighter and more drawn away at the mention of his dead mother. Dean almost felt sorry for him. 

“Your mom was something special, besides being the wonderful mother I am sure she was,” the King sighed. “You really have no clue, do you?” 

Dean frowned, both confused and frustrated. His mother was amazing yes but she was no different from any of the other town’s people... right?

The King rubbed a hand over his chin and looked at Dean with sympathetic eyes now. “I feel bad for being the one to bring you this news in some ways. But since it is something that will soon apply to you now that your mother is dead, the sooner you know the better.” 

Well shit, now Dean was really starting to freak out. Sweat began to slide down his forehead and his hands fidgeted nervously at his side. 

“Son, your mother was a Seer. Not just any seer, but a Seer from a legendary family.”

Dean’s mouth fell open, and the next thing he knew, he was looking at the ceiling. Shit.


End file.
